Jean-Pierre knew what the Militia Warriors called the Warriors of the Blood behind their backs: WhatBees, after the initials WOTB. As was typical of the male spirit, one group insisted on holding territorial rights against the other. It was just human nature, ascended or mortal. For that reason, he politely ignored all but the most blatant of pissing contests, another American expression he enjoyed very much.
There was, however, much mutual respect since all warriors battled the same enemy: Greaves and his army of death vampires.
Fiona led the way, but he knew exactly where she was going and why her chin had that familiar stubborn look. Before she did anything else, even before she began to explore her new power as obsidian flame, she would check the Militia Warrior HQ grid to see if any more anomalies had been sighted that might in turn lead to the discovery of yet another blood slave facility. In hunting for the facilities, Fiona was convinced that one day she would find Rith and bring him to justice.
As they passed the offices of the numerous Section Leaders, Jean-Pierre caught Gideon’s eye and nodded to him. Gideon had led the most recent group of Militia Warriors, bringing home eleven blood slaves to freedom.
Gideon nodded back but returned immediately to his computer, as though avoiding Jean-Pierre. The vampire had reason. He was approaching Warrior of the Blood status but anytime the subject came up, he got his back up. More than once he said he would never leave his service as a Militia Warrior.
Gideon was as tall as Jean-Pierre now and even perhaps more heavily muscled. Thorne felt certain he was only months away from a WOTB calling.
God help them, but Endelle’s forces needed more Warriors of the Blood. The difference in battle was profound and truly without explanation. But when a vampire achieved WOTB status, he could outperform his fellow Militia Warriors by incredible lengths. For the most part, a WOTB could battle eight or more death vampires at once, while a typical Militia Warrior had to be part of a squad of four to survive the attack of just one death vampire.
There was no comparison, so it was not unusual for Endelle or Thorne or any of the Warriors of the Blood to track the sudden development of a Militia Warrior. Gideon at this point in his life was known to battle two and sometimes three death vampires at once. It was not a small thing for Gideon, therefore, but the man fought, and even appeared to despise, his emerging status.
Jean-Pierre wished more than anything that he could help facilitate the emergence of more WOTBs, but nothing at present had transpired to hasten the process.
Once at the grid, he stepped back and let Fiona do what she did the best. She checked each of the anomalies that the grid-keepers found, searching for a special shading that only Fiona could see, which had in the past five months never failed once to produce a blood slave facility.
A few minutes later, she turned back to him and shook her head. She shifted to lean to her right then waved. When Jean-Pierre looked over his shoulder, he saw Alison through the windows that flanked the hallway as well as the grid room. She smiled, stopped, then waved an arm forward, beckoning Fiona to join her.
Jean-Pierre accompanied Fiona to the room Alison had decided to use to begin the strange sort of obsidian flame training. Once inside, he closed the door, but he moved to the glass windows that fronted the hall and turned the two closest blind slats up so that he could see movement in other parts of the facility. He might not be able to see everything, but he could make certain assessments just by watching who travelled the halls and at what speed.
* * *
“What’s wrong?” Fiona asked. The moment she had taken a good look at Alison, she knew she had to ask.
Alison rolled her eyes but she turned in a complete circle, threw her hands wide, and said, “You were a young mother once, right?”
All the tension Fiona had been feeling drifted away. She had expected something about death vampires—or worse, Endelle, since Alison worked most days as the scorpion queen’s executive assistant. But babies? Yes, she knew something about that.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Fiona offered.
The office was bare of furniture except for a handful of chairs against the wall nearest the door. Alison moved to sit in one and crossed her arms over her chest. “I never thought I’d feel this way. I mean I always wanted a baby, but I didn’t expect this.” She lifted her eyes to Fiona, her lovely blue eyes rimmed with gold. She put her hand above her heart and rubbed. “I ache when I’m away from Helena, and it’s really getting to me.”
Fiona chuckled. She had raised two children. “That’s so we bond really well with them. It’s a beautiful trick of nature, because in about two years, you’re going to want to kill her.”
Alison smiled. “The Terrible Twos.”
“Or Threes. Some children don’t assault your humanity until they’re three.”
Alison leaned back in the chair and took a couple more breaths. She relaxed her arms and let them dangle at her sides. “It’s just that this is a really hard time to bring children into the world.”
There was so much Fiona could have said, about how she’d lost her beloved Peter forever when he was eight, how she’d lost 115 years with Carolyn. But she went to something else. “A friend of mine and her three children died of typhoid fever in 1883. I know that most of the diseases from my era have been eradicated on Mortal Earth in the United States, but I can remember saying exactly what you just said, so I would suggest this: When has it ever been truly safe to bring a child into the world?”
Alison shook her head. “Never, I suppose.”
Fiona moved to sit beside her and took her hand. They shared a few things in common. They were both powerful in ways neither had expected to be.
More than once, Alison had talked about her ascension experiences, stunned by what she had accomplished and what she was supposed to accomplish in the future.
And now Fiona was grappling with something called obsidian flame.
They also had their men in common. Warrior Kerrick had immense power in his own right. His preternatural speed was unmatched.
Fiona glanced at Jean-Pierre, but he wasn’t looking at them. He held the vertical slat aside with two fingers and scanned the activity in other parts of HQ. She wasn’t quite sure if he did this to give them some privacy or because he was in a constant state of concern about issues of security. She suspected the latter.
“Endelle says Helena needs to learn to be tough so that I shouldn’t worry about being separated from her this much.”
Fiona started to laugh and couldn’t seem to stop.